


It Started with a Nightmare

by holmeswatson221B



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cuddles, Emotional Sherlock, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, No Mary, No Real Angst, No baby, Ok some smut, Possible smut, Post-The Reichenbach Fall, don't know yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-24 05:02:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6142332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holmeswatson221B/pseuds/holmeswatson221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sherlock had yet another vivid nightmare about losing John, he crawled into John's bed for comfort. Sherlock and John both realize their feelings for each other but are either of them willing to take the plunge for them to finally to be together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Characters belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the BBC. 
> 
> This is my first fanfic and is a work in progress. The story doesn't follow the series so to speak but may mention previous cases/episodes. Not brit picked or beta'd. Let me know if you see any mistakes.
> 
> Constructive criticism appreciated! Ideas welcome. I'll hopefully post the next chapter in the next week.

After a seemingly endless shift at the surgery and then chasing criminals through the streets of London, it had been a long 24 hours since John Watson had last seen his bed. He wasn’t like his flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, he actually needed sleep on a regular basis. He stripped off his clothes, tossing them off to the corner, grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms, and curled up under the blankets. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. His bedroom door opening a couple hours later woke him from a deep sleep. He had been a light sleeper since he was in the army.   
“John? Are you sleeping?” he heard the unmistakable voice of his friend.  
“I was, Sherlock. Whaddya want?” John mumbled.  
“Well, as it were, I’ve been plagued by horrible nightmares. And since I am out of patches and drugs are a bit not good, research indicates that one way to relax is human contact as it releases the chemicals….” Sherlock was cut off by John pulling back his duvet. “Come ‘ere then. Save me the science lesson.”  
“Are-are you sure?”  
“If you get into this bed, do I get to go back to sleep?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then get your arse over here.”  
Sherlock climbed into John’s bed and thanked him. John pulled the duvet over both of them and then fell quickly back to sleep.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
John awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and comfortable. He had someone wrapped around him and he did enjoy a good cuddle. He opened his eyes and looked down to see raven curls resting against his chest. Then he realized it was Sherlock with his head across his chest and arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Their legs were tangled together. John remembered something about Sherlock having nightmares and wanting to sleep in his bed with him. John grinned. He liked having Sherlock this close to him. Even if he was fooling himself that Sherlock had any romantic interest in him. As John had been told, relationships weren’t “his area” and he was married to his work. For a brief moment, John forgot about all of that and indulged in the fantasy that he had finally told Sherlock that he loved him and his detective loved him back. This was unfortunately short lived as Sherlock started to stir.  
Sherlock POV  
Sherlock woke up wrapped around a very lovely, warm pillow. As his brain started to wake up, he realized it was not a pillow but a person. Before he opened his eyes, he recognized the familiar scents of tea, soap, and something unmistakably John. Why was he cuddling John? He remembered having a horrible nightmare about the pool, the vest exploded. Sherlock was spared but he had lost John. The very thought made his chest go tight. He would be lost without his blogger. He had come to John’s room looking for comfort. Blasted sentiment. It’s all John’s fault. He had to come along and make Sherlock doubt everything he knew. That maybe caring wasn’t a disadvantage. In the deepest recesses of his mind palace, Sherlock hid a secret room. The room was dedicated to John. He knew he had fallen in love with his army doctor but he also knew that John was adamantly “NOT GAY” so would never consider a relationship with him. If he had even thought about being brave enough to tell John, he knew John would leave Baker Street and Sherlock’s life forever. Living without John was not an option. His true feelings for John would remain hidden and he would simply enjoy whatever type of contact John would allow.   
“Morning.” John said smiling. “Sleep okay?”  
“Uhm, yes. Quite well, thank you. I’m sorry for waking you last night.” Sherlock said with an air of embarrassment in his voice as he started to untangle himself from the doctor.   
“Sherlock, there is nothing to be sorry about. We make our living dealing with the worst of humanity. Add to that all the baggage we carried from before, nightmares come with the territory. I’m here for you. Even if you just don’t want to be alone. I know you aren’t one much for touching, but I enjoy a good cuddle.” John gave Sherlock a smile and a wink. Sherlock for once was at a loss for words. He gave John what he hoped was a warm smile in return. John didn’t mind Sherlock crawling into bed with him? His heart could burst. John stretched and started to get out of bed.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
After a blissfully uneventful day at Baker Street, John and Sherlock got take away for dinner and watched a film. John got up and stated that he was going to go to bed. Sherlock stiffened up a bit and cleared his throat.  
“John, I would like to make a proposal.”  
“Oh. Ok. What’s that then?”  
“Given our predisposition to nightmares and our mutual desire for camaraderie in bed to stave them off, I propose we share a bed. I understand of course, you will have dates and it will not always be, uhem, logical but for the most part it would seem to resolve our problems.”  
John was in shock for a moment. Was Sherlock actually suggesting they sleep together every night? Waking up this morning was lovely. Though it could cause issues down the line, given John’s feelings for Sherlock. Could he honestly be this greedy to take advantage of his friend’s needs for his own needs of being close to Sherlock? Apparently he had been quiet too long as Sherlock started speaking again.   
“It’s ok, John. I realize this may be awkward. We can just forget it.” Sherlock looked away and down.  
“Sherlock. I’m sorry, you took me by surprise. I think it’s a valid suggestion and I don’t see the harm in it. However, can I counter that we stay in your room as opposed to mine? You have a larger bed.” John smiled at Sherlock.  
“Of course, my room is fine.” Sherlock said and offered a small smile. Inside he was relieved and excited at the same time. John agreed to sleep nights with him! Sherlock generally didn’t require that much sleep but he might need to change that habit if it meant being wrapped up with his John.   
John excused himself to go get changed into his pajamas and get ready for bed. Sherlock did the same and did a quick sweep of his room for any possibly offending experiments that might bother John.  
When John walked into the room, there was a few moments awkwardness while they established sides of the bed and climbed in. It was more than a little different when they were both awake but they soon fell into a comfortable silence. John fell asleep first and Sherlock wasted no time curling up against him once he was sleeping. ‘This is better than any drug,’ was the last thought that crossed the detective’s mind before he fell asleep.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
After several weeks of the new sleeping arrangement, they had found their rhythm. They didn’t always go to sleep at the same time and then sometimes they came in from a long case and just collapsed fully dressed sprawled across the bed and there are times, Sherlock didn’t come to bed at all. Those nights were hard for both of them as John had gotten used to having someone to sleep with and Sherlock just loved to cuddle up with John. Cases and experiments kept Sherlock up some nights, as he did love the early hours of the morning when no one else was up and he could quietly conduct his experiments without interruption.   
It was one of those nights, where Sherlock was pouring over his microscope looking at his mold cultures that something occurred to him. It had been 6 weeks since John and he began their arrangement and John hadn’t gone on a date. That was odd. In the years that he and John had known each other, John hadn’t gone that long without dating. A week, maybe two, but definitely not 6 weeks.   
That was interesting. The mold was suddenly forgotten and Sherlock went to his mind palace to examine this development. ‘Could he possibly be interested in something more?’ Sherlock replayed the last 6 weeks in clips, analyzing every moment with John to see if there was a hint that he wanted to be more. He knew John was smiling more and seemed happier but that could be attributed to sleeping better; which was the point of the sleeping arrangements. He remembered several moments of touch that last a tick or two longer than necessary, looks that seemed to linger. Sherlock thought maybe this meant that John had started to return his feelings. He was suddenly afraid, he didn’t know enough about these things to trust himself. He couldn’t risk ruining what they had if he was misinterpreting the situation. He needed to talk to someone about this, but who? Mycroft was not an option at all. Mrs Hudson would be exhausting and already thought they were together. Molly? Yes! He would talk to Molly. She was over the crush that she had on Sherlock since the fall. He would go to Bart’s tomorrow and talk to Molly. With that decided, he decided it was time to go to bed. He changed quickly and climbed into bed next to John. John rolled over and wrapped an arm around Sherlock and sighed. Sherlock smiled and fell asleep thinking about finally kissing his doctor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly knows everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you all for reading and the kudos! I'm really enjoying writing this fiction. 
> 
> I'm aiming for a chapter a week until it comes to it's natural conclusion (I don't know what that is yet). But I'll add the caveat, my 9 month old occasionally has different plans and I'm also trying to launch my own business.

John woke early the next morning to find that Sherlock had come to bed at some point. He briefly wondered what experiment he had been working on and then grimaced as he thought about the mess in the kitchen he was about to walk into. Careful not to disturb Sherlock, he eased himself out of bed and shuffled down the hall to the kitchen. Surprisingly, just a few mold samples in petri dishes on the kitchen table, all in all not bad. He put the kettle on and then went to take a shower. It was going to be another long day at the surgery, he could just tell. He didn’t really want to go in, much preferring spending time with Sherlock. But there were no cases and he needed to pay the rent. 

He stood as the warm water washed over him and he smiled thinking back over the past few weeks. What started as a moment of vulnerability for Sherlock, which John knew much have killed Sherlock to show, had turned into a more permanent arrangement. John was content with how things were going, feeling more complete than he had in a long time. A part of him wished that he could confess to Sherlock that he was in love with him and give himself to him completely but he knew that Sherlock wouldn’t return the feelings and he would ruin everything by trying to explain his feelings to Sherlock. While Sherlock had changed rather dramatically during their years together, John knew this better than anyone else, feelings and sentiment were extremely difficult for the detective and he preferred not to deal with them. John would never force his hand. In whatever way he had Sherlock, he would be happy. John sighed and turned off the water. He needed to get to work. He quickly dried off, dressed, and had a cup of coffee. He was gone long before Sherlock finally woke up.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
When Sherlock woke up, he was confused why he was alone at first. Then as he started to realize it was almost 10am, everything started to become clearer. John was working today (dull), there were no cases (boring). He perked up immediately when he remembered he was going to talk to Molly about John today. Molly would help him understand what was happening and then he could figure out if John loved him too. Sherlock almost wanted to slap himself, he sounded like a babbling school girl. Sherlock’s thoughts turned to concern. He didn’t know how to do this thing. Relationships were difficult and required compromise and consideration for the other person. As Sherlock had been reliably informed in the past, he is a selfish bastard. Could he be a good partner to John? ‘First things, first,’ Sherlock thought, ‘Does John even care for me that way?’ Sherlock showered and dressed in record time and was hailing a cab to Bart’s in no time.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
At the lab, Molly had her back to the door when Sherlock burst through. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the noise.  
“Sherlock! What are you doing here? I didn’t think I’d see you today. New experiment?” Molly asked. 

“Molly, I find myself out of my depths and I need your advice on a rather personal matter.” Sherlock said cooly. At least he hoped he sounded slightly detached. This was difficult, opening himself up to Molly, even though she is who he turned to when he needed help with faking his suicide. 

“Really? Sure. I’m happy to help.”

“I’m not really sure how to start so I’m just going to get to it. You see, it’s about John. I’m trying to determine his feelings for me. He hasn’t gone on a date in 6 weeks since our arrangements have changed a bit. I’ve gone over the past few weeks in my mind and I feel as though I have noticed him being more affectionate, though it’s been so subtle I can’t really be sure.”

“What changed 6 weeks ago?”

“We started sleeping together.” Sherlock said plainly as if all friends slept together.

Molly spit out the gulp of water she had just taken. “You’re sleeping together and you don’t know if he has romantic feelings for you?”

“Of course!” Sherlock exclaimed in frustration. Than realizing how what he had said could be taken, he quickly corrected himself. “No, Molly, we aren’t having sex, we are quite literally sleeping in the same bed. We both have nightmares and find comfort having each other close by.”

“Ah, ok. Still wasn’t what I was expecting to hear. Tell me more about what else that has you thinking that his feelings may have changed.”

Sherlock explained the looks, the touches, and everything he had observed about John’s behavior. Molly listened patiently with a knowing smile on her face. 

“Sherlock, how do you feel about him?” Molly asked directly.

“I, well, I obviously care for him a great deal. He is my best friend. He is a great man.”

Molly raised an eyebrow at him.

Sherlock sighed and leaned against the desk, knowing he had to finally verbalize what he has kept so hidden, “I-I love him. I don’t know what to do, Molly, I’ve never felt this before. I don’t know how to do relationships. All I know is I want John Watson.”

Molly put her hand on his shoulder, “Sherlock, of course he loves you. The way he looks at you when you aren’t looking is as if the world begins and ends with you. And, Sherlock, the way you look at him when you think no one sees as if he is the most precious thing in the world. You wonder why everyone thinks you are together? Because most of us couldn’t imagine having that kind of love. But neither of you see it in each other because you are so frightened of losing each other. You didn’t see him after the fall. He was broken. He was as if he truly lost half of himself. You complete each other in a way no one else ever could. Sherlock, tell him. You both deserve to be happy and both of you are keeping that happiness from yourself.” Molly wiped a tear from her eye as she saw Sherlock’s face brighten at her words. 

“Are you sure I won’t be ruining everything? I won’t be a good partner. I’m a horrible, selfish person. Everyone tells me. I’m a-a freak.” Sherlock blurted out his fears. 

“Oh, Sherlock. You aren’t a freak. You can be difficult but don’t you think if John was going to leave you over it, he would be gone by now?” Molly wrapped an arm around Sherlock’s waist. 

“Thank you, Molly Hooper. As always, I knew I could count on you.” Sherlock leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek. 

At that moment, the door to the lab opened and DI Lestrade walked in just as Sherlock was kissing Molly. “Oy! Hands off my girl!” He chuckled. Sherlock looked at him and back at Molly, putting together the deductions he had previously overlooked. “Oh, right, obvious. I’m sorry, Molly. I was so wrapped up in my own problem, I didn’t observe. I’m so happy for you both. Graham is perfect for you.”

“It’s GREG!” Molly and Greg shouted in unison. 

“Really?”

Greg just shook his head at the detective. 

“Well, again, my congratulations. As I have some plans to make, I will leave you to it. Molly, many thanks. Gavin, be good to her.” Sherlock said as he strolled out of the lab before they could correct him again. They simply sighed and said goodbye.

Sherlock took his phone from his pocket and sent a text to John.

Would you like to go out to dinner tonight? –SH

Sure. Where are we going? –JW

Angelo’s? –SH

Great. Meet you after work. Say 6? –JW

See you at 6. -SH


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner, anxious Sherlock, and some fluff.

Sherlock was anxious for the rest of the day. He thought at least 17 ways to tell John how he felt about him but none of them were perfect. This needed to be perfect. He paced the flat until Mrs. Hudson came up and told him to stop stamping his feet when he walked. He picked Angelo’s for the sake of sentiment. They were on their first case when they went there and John managed to get over his limp, leaving his cane there as they chased a cab through the streets of London, trying to catch a serial killer but in the end finding a very confused American tourist. Sherlock smiled at the memory. When they first met, he knew John was different and had immediate feelings toward him but he didn’t realize at that time, it was love. And then it hit him. He knew how the night had to progress for him to be able to tell John how he felt. Sherlock immediately made a call and then started to get dressed for dinner.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Sitting in his office trying to get the last bits of paperwork out of the way, John couldn’t help but wonder why Sherlock wanted to go out to dinner. Sherlock was not a big eater but then if he were to want to eat, of course it would be Angelo’s. If ever John couldn’t get Sherlock to eat for too long, he would get him a plate made especially by Angelo and Sherlock would eat a healthy portion. He long since gave up on trying to sort out Sherlock’s eating habits. He just encouraged him to eat as much as he could and hoped it was enough. He figured with no cases to keep him busy for the past few days, maybe Sherlock was feeling a bit cooped up. John checked the clock and saw it was 5pm. He went to the bathroom to freshen up a bit from the long day and then headed to get across London to meet Sherlock.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Sherlock was standing outside Angelo’s when John arrived. He was carefully watching the crowd around him. John chuckled to himself, guessing that the detective was deducing every person as they walked by. He could see the concentration in his friend’s face as he was “reading” everyone. Anyone who didn’t know Sherlock would think he was scowling at everyone, almost frighteningly. John knew better and found nothing sexier than when Sherlock was deducing someone. Those sharp cheekbones stood out even more, the cupid’s bow lips pressed firmly together but still impossibly full, and (even though he couldn’t see them from where he was standing) his blue-grey eyes would be full of electricity as they moved almost impossibly fast taking in everything. Sherlock was so wrapped up in what he was doing, he didn’t notice John walk up next to him. 

“So, what’s his story then?” John said indicating the man who currently held Sherlock’s focus. Sherlock jumped slightly at his voice.   
“Was kicked out by his wife, staying in a cheap motel. He is hopeful they can work it out for the kids but the wife is sleeping with her boss. He’s already forgiven her but she won’t end it.” John shook his head after Sherlock finished, “Poor bloke.”

“Shall we?” Sherlock gestured towards the door. John nodded and they went inside. 

They were instantly greeted by Angelo himself. “Ah, boys! It’s been too long! Come, sit, your usual table.” Angelo ushered them to a small table by the front window. Angelo spoke in a constant stream of small talk, telling John he had been following their cases on his blog and admonishing Sherlock for being too thin. Angelo had stopped being a mere former client several years before and was now part of their rather oddly pieced together family. Angelo turned around and placed a candle on their table, “For the happy couple,” he said and winked at them. “I will prepare your meals tonight, no menus! I know just the thing.” With that Angelo disappeared into the kitchen. 

Sherlock smirked for a moment as he noted John did not object to the candle with his usual frustrated declaration of “NOT GAY”. John just laughed, “I think Angelo may have had a bit of wine tonight. He’s awfully chatty.” Sherlock nodded and looked out the window. John noticed that Sherlock has spaced out. “What’s wrong, Sherlock?”

“Mmmmm? Oh nothing. Just thinking.”

“There’s a shock. Anything you care to share?”

Sherlock chuckled, “Welcome to London.”

John started laughing as he remembered the chase after the cab only to find an extremely confused American tourist. “To that point in my life, that was the most ridiculous thing I had ever done,” he said.

“And you invaded Afghanistan.” Sherlock joked and gave him one of those genuine smiles reserved only for John. 

The two fell into comfortable banter, reminiscing, and teasing each other about their various cases and the crazy situations they ended up in. Sherlock would occasionally experiment with John’s personal space by talking just a little softer, requiring John to subconsciously lean closer to Sherlock to hear him over the bustle of the restaurant. He also ever so subtly moved his seat closer to John, who did not seem to mind or notice Sherlock getting closer to him. 

As Angelo walked back to the table carrying two delicious looking plates of food, John was saying, “To this day, I’m skeptical when you make the tea or coffee that there might be some hallucinogenic drug in there.” “It was just the once, John.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Once was enough!”

“Here you go, boys. My mama’s recipe; Mostoccioli mosta. Eat, eat!”

They thanked Angelo and tucked into the hearty pasta dish in front of them. Conversation had ceased as they both were too focused on enjoying the meal in front of them. Sherlock even cleared his plate despite the nerves building in his stomach. Things were going well but he still was afraid. If John rejected him, he could lose him forever. He thought back to his conversation with Molly earlier today and tried to find that courage again. 

“Sherlock, are you ok?” John’s brow was creased in worry at his friend who had suddenly started to look upset. They were having a lovely evening, what could Sherlock be thinking of that changed his mood so suddenly? Unless he was thinking the case that didn’t end up so well, namely, Moriarty and the fall. John had to push those memories away. Sherlock came back to him, that’s all that mattered. 

“I’m fine, John. Just very full. I haven’t eaten this much food in ages. Ah, Angelo,” Sherlock smiled at the restaurateur, “the meal was splendid. Thank you.” Angelo smiled back already knowing the answer to his question, “Any room for tiramisu?” John rubbed his stomach and said, “You would have to roll me home in that case. Ta, but not for me.” Angelo cleared the plates away.

Sherlock realized it was time to put this into action. He wanted to ask John to go for a walk in the nearby park and he would tell him then, but unfortunately, he was starting to panic and his normally cool and collected exterior was crumbling. John saw his face. He knew that Sherlock had issues with panic attacks in the past and he could see the writing on the wall. Whatever Sherlock was thinking about was making him lose control.

“Sherlock, let’s go for a walk. It’ll be good after such a big meal. Get some air.” John stood up and began to gather his coat as if nothing was amiss but keeping a close eye on Sherlock’s face. Sherlock nodded. John gave their thanks to Angelo, promising they will be back soon, and ushered Sherlock outside.

As soon as the crisp air hit Sherlock, he started to feel better. After a few deep breaths, the anxiety faded. “I’m sorry about that, John. I think I ate too much and wasn’t feeling well. Some air was exactly what I needed.” Sherlock offered another smile at John and began to walk towards the park. 

“As long as you are sure. You had me worried for a minute. I thought something that upset you. Well, beyond your stomach.”

They continued their walk in a companionable silence. Sherlock noticed John walking slightly closer to him than usual and smiled. As they reached a small foot bridge in the park, Sherlock decided it was now or never. 

“John, I have to talk to you about something.” The words came out harsher than he intended as he was finding words hard to grasp at the moment. He could almost see John physically bracing himself for bad news.

“Sure. What is it, Sherlock?”

“This is difficult for me, John. I don’t quite know where to start or how you will react to what I am about to say. So I’m hoping you will allow me to finish.”

John took a deep breath. “Of course,” he said softly. He was running through his head trying to figure out what he had done that would have upset Sherlock so much. ‘Oh God, has he figured out I’m in love with him?’ John’s stomach dropped but he waited for Sherlock to speak.

Sherlock turned to look at John. He looked into those deep pools of green, he was looking for strength to speak in those kind eyes he knew he could rely on but could see that John was putting his guard up. He took a deep breath and began; “John, I am a difficult man. Well, that’s an understatement. I’m at the very least a difficult man, at worst a high functioning sociopath with little regard to those around me. I never pretended to understand human emotions, I learned from a young age that caring was not an advantage; a chemical defect. Since I met you, I find I no longer feel the same way. From the moment you walked into Bart’s with Mike, I knew there was something different about you. I was both intrigued and afraid. When you came on that first case with me, you said amazing when most people called me a freak. I told you I was married to my work because I was afraid. Alone was all I had, it was what protected me. I knew if anyone was going to break through the wall I had built around myself, it would be you. And I was terrified of the control that would give you over me. John, you saw me. When no one else bothered to understand me, you did. You made me feel like I mattered beyond the work. You-you saved my life in so many ways. You are the bravest, kindest, wisest man I have ever had the good fortune of knowing. I knew as you started to break down the wall I put up to protect myself, that I could trust you with the best and worst of me. Which makes what I’m about to tell you so very frightening. You may walk away and never want to see me again and I wouldn’t be able to bare it,” Sherlock paused and swallowed hard, “John Hamish Watson, I love you.” Sherlock took a breath and looked over at John for his response.

John let Sherlock’s words roll over him for a moment. Of anything he could have guessed Sherlock was about to tell him, he never expected his to declare his love for John. He stared at Sherlock, trying to piece together how to respond, how to tell him that he loved him as well. He could see Sherlock frantically trying to read his face.

“Sherlock, you are a very difficult man. You blow up the kitchen and you burn my jumpers. You don’t seem to understand the mundane tasks that make the world go round and refuse to participate in them,” Sherlock was looking away as if preparing for the rejection he saw coming. John reached up and gently turned Sherlock’s face back to him and continued, “But you are a brilliant man. You care more than you will ever let yourself believe. You may not see the million ways you do care towards our friends or even me, you may not be conventional about it, but the love is there. Sherlock Holmes, you saved my life the moment you asked me ‘Afghanistan or Iraq’. I knew life with you would never be boring. Of course, I love you, too. It’s always been you, without a doubt.” John gave Sherlock the widest smile as he had tears threatening to fall from his glistening eyes. 

A small noise came from the back of Sherlock’s throat as he leaned down and pressed his lips to John’s. The kiss started slow and sweet, feeling like coming home, becoming complete for the first time. John gently nipped on Sherlock’s bottom lip, asking for entrance. Sherlock complied and they deepened the kiss. Sherlock’s hand went to John’s cheek, John’s fingers tangled themselves in Sherlock’s dark curls. They kissed as if their very lives depended on it. Unfortunately, they had to break the kiss as they needed to breathe.

“John, my John, I love you.” Sherlock whispered.

“I love you, Sherlock, my clever detective,” John smiled.

“Should we go home? If we kiss again, I may be unable to control myself and we will be putting on quite a show,” Sherlock teased.

John’s smile brightened (if that were even possible). “Lead the way, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bit was harder to write than the others. I wanted to have some grand plan of Sherlock telling him over dinner but as I was going, I liked this better. Getting Jawn all sentimental with the memories. Hence why Angelo was key. He had to nudge them along. Good thing Sherlock called him. 
> 
> At least one more chapter left, possibly 2 if I can make my idea make sense outside my brain. 
> 
> **Alright, no more delaying, I'm going to his post. I must stop editing. I need to go back and edit the previous chapters again before this one. (Seriously I've not hit post. I've re-read this 8 times since I copied it over.) LOL


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at Baker Street, the boys get a little hot and heavy. Fluffy smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay!!! Kidney stones for me and a teething baby means not a lot of time to write.
> 
> Here is the final chapter of this story. It's my first attempt at smut of any kind so, hopefully not terrible. I changed the tags a bit as my other plans didn't come to fruition here. I have lots of ideas for other fics so keep an eye out. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always welcome.

They had barely gotten their coats off when they arrived at Baker Street when Sherlock pulled John close to him. He held onto him as if Sherlock would drown if he let go. He finally had his doctor in his arms not as a friend, colleague, flatmate, but as his. John nuzzled his face into the crook of Sherlock’s neck, placing light kisses there. Sherlock let out a deep contented sigh. John looked up and Sherlock met his gaze before leaning down and kissing John again. The kiss lacked the urgency of the previous one but was no less passionate. Sherlock initiated deepening the kiss by running his tongue along John’s lower lip. John parted his lips to allow Sherlock in. For several more moments, they lazily fought for dominance in the kiss until once again being humans became an inconvenience and they had to breathe. 

John gently pulled away from Sherlock, running his hands down his arms and gently grasping Sherlock’s hands. He started to walk backwards towards the bedroom and smiled at Sherlock. A brief look of worry crossed Sherlock’s face before he returned the smile and allowed himself to be lead to his, no their, bedroom. They kicked off their shoes and crawled into the bed as they had so many nights before, only this time not afraid to touch each other. Sherlock pulled himself up so he was half on top of John and kissed him again.

He broke the kiss as his mind started whirling. He looked into John’s eyes, feeling vulnerable as he started to doubt himself again. John could see Sherlock’s face fall and he was alarmed.

“Sherlock, did I do something wrong?”

“John, I’m afraid.”

“What is it, love?”

“I’m afraid I won’t do this right. I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know how to do it. I will be stupid and selfish and make you angry. I don’t understand affection. I’ve never had sex. You’ll want more than I can give you. You’ll realize you can do better and you’ll leave me forever.”

“Oh, Sherlock,” John ran his hand through Sherlock’s curls with one hand and linked his fingers with Sherlock’s with the other, “There is nothing you can do or say that’s going to make me leave you. Yes, we will have spats just as we always do, and we may get upset with each other. I love you and will always love you. You are the most amazing thing that’s ever happened in my life, I don’t want anyone or anything else. We’ll go at your pace, whatever you are comfortable with and start there. This is all new to me too. As long as you are mine, I’m happy.”

‘I’m John’s. He’s mine. My John.’ Sherlock let these words sink in. Finally. 

“John, I would like to kiss some more,” Sherlock offered a small smirk. How he managed to sound so innocent and alluring at the same time John would never be able to figure out. 

“Thank God for that.” John offered a warm chuckle.

Sherlock began kissing him again, first on his lips and then trailed light kisses down his jaw and onto his neck. John let out a small moan as Sherlock continued to kiss near the nape of his neck. It had always been a sensitive spot for John. Sherlock returned to John’s lips and they kissed for several moments. Sherlock’s hand trailed down John’s side and caught the edge of his jumper. He tested running a few fingers underneath. He knew he needed to see more of John.

He broke their kiss, “May I?” he indicated John’s shirt. John grinned, “If that’s what you want, love.” Sherlock pulled John up to a sitting position and pulled his jumper over his head and removed the button up shirt that was underneath. He leaned John back on to the bed. This was the first time Sherlock had ever seen John without a shirt. Sherlock looked down at him, taking in the view of John’s chest and stomach. He was more muscular than Sherlock had imagined. While he wasn’t as fit as he had been in the army, he certainly wasn’t slacking at all. Sherlock traced his fingers down the center of John’s chest and then leaned forward and starting peppering John with kisses down his jaw, his neck, and then eventually stopped at John’s shoulder. He saw the scar from the bullet John took in the war. It looked like a starburst. He tentatively touched it with his fingers and felt John tense beneath him. He knew John was self-conscious about the scar. Sherlock gently kissed the scar. “You’re amazing,” Sherlock murmured, “So strong.” He spent a few more moments tracing the lines of John’s scar with kisses before moving on and exploring the rest of John’s chest and torso. He could feel John relax. As he reached John’s trousers, he knew he needed to see and explore all of him. He wanted to taste, touch, feel every inch of John. Sherlock wanted to know what he liked and how to please him. He looked up at John, his eyes dark with lust, and gently tugged at his belt.

John took a deep breath to gather himself before pulling Sherlock up to meet his lips. He kissed Sherlock deeply and said, “Love, I don’t want you to do anything you are uncomfortable with just because you think it’s what I want. When we make love for the first time, I want to make sure it’s when you are ready, not because you think I’ll leave if you don’t.”

“I want to see and touch you. I need to know every inch of you. I promise, I will tell you if it gets too much. I know you are trying to protect me, but John, I want you.” Sherlock looked pleadingly at John. 

At Sherlock’s words, John was painfully aroused. Sherlock wanted him. He looked at John as if he was some precious treasure and John loved that. John was usually the one offering flattery and making the other person feel this way. He loved feeling it himself. 

“If you’re going to go around and take my clothes off, I’m starting to think you are overdressed, love.” John looked down at Sherlock’s shirt.

Sherlock took a deep breath, leaned back, and started to unbutton his shirt. “I don’t think so, Sherlock. That’s my job, one I think I’m going to rather enjoy.” John got on his knees and took over unbuttoning Sherlock’s shirt, kissing his neck as he worked. When he was done, he pushed the shirt off Sherlock’s shoulders and looked at the expanse of cream colored skin in front of him. He had seen Sherlock without a shirt on before, hazard of the trade, he was his doctor after all. But looking at him like this, it was completely different. He leaned back for a moment, “God, you are gorgeous.” He returned to kissing Sherlock’s neck biting gently, teasing his skin with his tongue as he ran his hands down Sherlock’s chest and torso. The moans coming from Sherlock were almost enough to make John lose control right then. Sherlock put his hands on John’s shoulders and leaned him back into the bed. He would not be deterred as much as he loved feeling John’s lips and hands all over him. He needed to see John. He knew he should take his time but the desire to see and feel John was stronger than the pull of any drug and he couldn’t put it off any longer. He worked John’s belt and trousers open and pulled his trousers off in one fluid motion, leaving John only in his pants. 

Sherlock ran his long fingers down John’s hips, hands rubbing down his thighs, and then ran them back up to cup John’s buttocks in his hands. He pressed an urgent kiss on John’s lips and rolled John on top of him so he was being straddled by his army doctor. He loved this, feeling the weight of John on top of him. In their current position, their hard lengths were just a few thin layers of clothing apart, pressing firmly together, and it felt amazing. Sherlock tentatively reached down and touched John’s member through his pants. John let out a moan at the contact. John bucked his hips at the touch and moved against Sherlock’s erection which then caused the detective to let out a deep purr from the back of his throat. At this point, they both lost control. They were kissing and holding onto each other as they started to grind their hips together. In what seemed like second, Sherlock reached orgasm and yelled out John’s name. John followed almost immediately taking his turn to shout Sherlock’s name. They collapsed in a tangled heap on the bed, panting, and smiling.

“That was brilliant,” Sherlock said softly.

“Yup,” John agreed.

"I didn't finish exploring all of you," Sherlock pouted.

"There is always next time," John chuckled.

“Mrs. Hudson definitely knows now.” They both laughed. 

With an uncomfortable groan, Sherlock eased out of bed to change into clean pajamas and brought a flannel and clean clothes for John. After a quick change, they took up their previous position cuddling on the bed. They laid in silence, sharing the occasional sleepy kiss.

Just before sleep took over, John heard Sherlock, “My John, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Sherlock.”

They both drifted into sleep, neither were plagued by nightmares.


End file.
